Miss Gloria Wins the Grand Prize

If you’ve never met Miss Gloria, picture a woman in her mid-60s with the confidence of a Vegas showgirl, the determination of a tax auditor in April, and a wardrobe made entirely from second-hand store “treasures” that look like they’ve been designed by a colorblind flamingo. She lives in a little town called Maplewood, population 2,041 — although, as she likes to remind everyone, “it should be 2,042, but Harold Jenkins doesn’t count because he never leaves his house.”

One Monday morning, Miss Gloria spotted a flyer taped to the glass door of Maplewood’s only grocery store:

“MAPLEWOOD SUPERMARKET SWEEP – WIN THE GRAND PRIZE!”

In bold letters underneath: First Prize – One Minute to Grab Anything You Can Carry in the Store.

Now, Miss Gloria was a practical woman. She knew the average shopper would go for steaks, electronics, maybe a trolley full of detergent. But Miss Gloria had vision. She’d been waiting her whole life for this kind of opportunity.

She studied the rules:

Contestants must not damage goods.

No outside help.

You can only take what you can physically carry in your arms.

“That’s not a challenge,” she told herself. “That’s an invitation.”

The big day came. Four contestants lined up at the store entrance. Miss Gloria wore sneakers, sweatbands on both wrists, and — for reasons nobody could explain — a neon green cape with “G” in glitter across the back.

The store manager, Mr. Peck, raised the megaphone.

“Ready… set… GO!”

The others bolted toward the meat section. Miss Gloria, however, marched straight to Aisle 7: Vitamins & Supplements. She swept bottles of high-end fish oil, magnesium, and collagen powder into her arms with the precision of a ninja folding laundry.

By the 15-second mark, she was already carrying enough concentrated nutrition to feed a small army of bodybuilders. At the 30-second mark, she’d added the most expensive coffee beans in the store. At the 45-second mark, she calmly grabbed a bottle of aged balsamic vinegar that cost more than a week’s rent.

Then came the problem.

Miss Gloria spotted the store’s crown jewel: a $399 chef’s knife set in a glass case. She knew she couldn’t carry it without dropping something. So she did what any strategic thinker would — she placed it gently on top of her head, balanced like a runway model in Milan.

At exactly one minute, Mr. Peck shouted, “TIME!”

Miss Gloria froze like a statue. The crowd applauded, partly impressed, partly terrified that the knife set might fall and turn the event into a true-crime documentary.

When the total value of her haul was calculated, the results were stunning:

Miss Gloria’s total: $2,731.89.

Second place: $642.14.

The local paper declared it “A Victory for Strategy Over Speed.”

But the real comedy came the next day when Miss Gloria went to claim her prize officially.

The store’s finance clerk, Brenda, asked, “Ma’am, do you want to keep everything or return some items for store credit?”

Gloria squinted. “Store credit? Honey, I’ve been preparing for this moment since ’78. Every item here has a purpose.”

“What about the thirty-two jars of organic truffle-infused honey?”

“Christmas presents,” Gloria said.

“And the twelve jars of magnesium supplements?”

“Those are for my bowling league. We’re not getting any younger.”

“And… the balsamic vinegar?”

“That,” Gloria whispered, “is for my funeral. I want people to remember me as the woman who had taste.”

Word spread quickly in Maplewood. Soon, Miss Gloria was a minor celebrity. Children waved at her from school buses. The mayor gave her a key to the city — which, to be clear, was just an old key they’d found in a drawer, but it came with a certificate.

She even started offering “Supermarket Strategy” classes at the community center. The first lesson was simple:

“Don’t chase the shiny steaks. Chase the small expensive things. That’s where the glory lies.”

By the end of the month, Miss Gloria had not only stocked her pantry for years but had also launched a YouTube channel called “Glorious Wins,” where she gave humorous life advice while wearing her neon cape.

In her first video, she looked straight at the camera and said:

“If you ever get a chance to win the grand prize, remember: it’s not about speed, it’s about style. And possibly about balancing cutlery on your head.”

Miss Gloria’s story became part of Maplewood legend — told at barbecues, printed on tote bags, even reenacted at the town’s annual Fall Festival (though the person playing her had to sign a waiver about the knives).

As for Miss Gloria, she’s still waiting for her next big chance. Rumor has it she’s already training for the “Fill-a-Bag Thrift Store Challenge” in the neighboring town. And this time, she says, “I’m bringing a cape with sequins.”

Because in Maplewood, once you’ve won the grand prize, you’ve got a reputation to uphold.